No Longer A Little Brother
by Heart of a Music Box
Summary: A trip to the wilderness of Yunnan leaves a young Kiku contemplating his future, as well as his closeness to Yao.


It was early afternoon in Yunnan, China. A recent rainfall had decorated the high green hilltops with mists and saturated the ground with puddles and worms. A chorus of birds and monkeys, as well as the sound of the rushing river echoed across the area, along with the rare roar of a tiger or the trumpet of an elephant. Butterflies fluttered gently along the forest paths. The scene was like something out of a dream, of absolute beauty and serenity. As far as the eye could see, there was nature, unchanged since ancient times, but if one were to look closer, he would see a duo hiking up one of the paths. A young man with his hair tied back, walking briskly with a cheerful expression, followed closely by a tiny, frowning boy.

Kiku's feet were aching; he'd been marching alongside Yao for hours up steep hills and down deep crevices, pushing away plants and fending off territorial birds. Yao was unbothered but the younger country felt himself wearing out. He wanted desperately to stop, but he knew Yao wanted to reach the temple by tonight and didn't want to disappoint his older brother. He trudged on, concentrating on nothing but putting one foot in front of the other.

Yao was an easy-going and often cheerfully aloof man, but after only a few minutes of silence, he realized something wasn't quite right with Kiku. The boy wasn't asking questions or stopping to observe; his face was pointed at the ground and his shoulders were tensed. He looked pale and tired.

"Kiku?"

Yao stopped, and Kiku copied his movements, losing control of his body as he plopped down on the ground. He took several deep breaths, eventually finding the courage to look at his brother's face. Yao looked concerned, maybe even panicked. He reached out to touch Kiku's forehead.

"Are you feeling sick, aru? Tired? Do you want us to stop?"

The small boy's heart skipped a beat at the happy thought of rest, perhaps making camp and letting his aching body retire, but then he remembered how badly Yao had wanted to go to the temple today, how excited he'd been as they'd packed early that morning, and he shook his head vigorously.

"I just need to catch my breath, then we should continue."

His words were short and vague, as always. Yao sighed, reluctantly standing again and leaning against a tree, shaking it slightly. A banana fell from it, bouncing off the Chinese man's head and landing at Kiku's feet. He stared at it, unsure of what to do, and turned to his companion with a questioning expression.

"Go ahead and eat it, aru, it'll make you feel stronger."

It had been over half an hour and Kiku was still too sore to continue hiking; he'd tried several times to stand, only to fall flat on his face. Yao fussed over him every time, but Kiku batted him away. However, after smashing his nose in the mud for the eleventh time, he gave up. He fell back onto his backside and sniffled, feeling the humiliating tears beginning to form. He was weak; he was tiny and weak and he was keeping Yao from something he loved. He cried out of frustration and embarrassment, wiping his eyes with his yukata sleeves as more tears ran down.

Yao sighed again and knelt down, reaching out to touch his young companion's moistening face. He smiled gently.

"Kiku, aru, you don't weigh much. I could easily carry you the rest of the way to the temple. There wouldn't be a problem, aru!"

Kiku continued to shake with his tears, shaking his head wordlessly and refusing to look at his brother. Yao only continued to smile.

"I understand your frustration, Kiku. You think it'll be dishonorable to let me carry you, aru, but let me tell you something; there is no shame in reaching your physical limits, because once you reach them you know them, and then you can work toward extending them, aru."

Kiku had stopped crying and was now wide-eyed, realizing and reveling in the truth of Yao's words. He stood and lifted his arms, asking the silent question Yao had been instigating. The older man gently lifted him from the ground, over his head, and down into the basket strapped to his back. Along with his minimal supplies, Kiku fit almost perfectly. As Yao stood and began to walk again, the gentle rocking of the basket with his every step began to make the child sleepy. He let his head droop against Yao's shoulder, closing his eyes and drifting off. The last thing he heard was a quiet giggle.

Hours past, and Kiku awoke to find they had reached the temple. He'd been repositioned in his slumber, now held loosely against the softly shifting chest of his companion, who'd fallen asleep as well. Pushing back slowly as not to wake him, Kiku stared out at the horizon. The sun was just peaking over the hills, about to set, and so shadows were creeping into the land around them. He could vaguely make out the place where he'd reached his limit, a very long distance from where he sat now. He looked back at Yao's serene face; he'd carried him all that way without even jostling him. He'd even taken him across that raging river.

Kiku frowned; Yao was supposed to have woken him at the river, as Kiku had told him before they set off. He wanted to learn to slide across the ropes from one cliff to another. He wanted to do it with ease, just as Yao did.

He reached out, gently taking hold of Yao's face with his tiny hands, staring intently. Yao could do many things with ease; he was strong and experienced. He was also beautiful.

Yes, Kiku assured himself, Yao was beautiful, just like his country. He was beautiful and also mysterious; where would he have to be touched to make him laugh? What would have to be said to make him cry? He leaned forward to rest their foreheads together, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing.

Someday, he wanted to be like Yao. He wanted to grow to be strong and beautiful, a warrior with culture. He wanted to have people who loved and respected his land, and be known all over the world for something unique. He wanted to impress the man who'd raised him, to show him all his capabilities.

'And maybe, someday when this all happens…' he thought, lowering himself and snuggling back into the position he'd been in, 'I'll be someone he sees as an equal, instead a little brother.'


End file.
